


Secret Santa

by totheendoftheworldortime79



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Mutual Pining, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totheendoftheworldortime79/pseuds/totheendoftheworldortime79
Summary: Emma and Killian are professors working in the history department of Storybrooke University, each fretting about the department's Secret Santa gift exchange.





	Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2017 CS Secret Santa exchange! Enjoy!

“So who’d you get?”

Emma struggled not to roll her eyes; she was trying to better about that. It was Christmas after all. “That kinda defeats the purpose, Mary Margaret. It’s supposed to be a _secret_.” Emma had two very good reasons for not divulging who she got for her Secret Santa. One, as much as Emma loved her, she knew her friend was the _worst_ at keeping secrets. The minute she spoke her little scheme would be all over. Second, it really _was_ a scheme. When her department picked names, she didn’t get who’d she’d been hoping for. So she took matters into her own hands. Just a little bit. It could still blow up in her face.

Mary Margaret looked hurt. “I can keep a secret, Emma.”

“Like that time we tried to surprise David on his birthday?”

“That was one time!”

“Or the frankly _terrible_ way you play Heads Up?”

Mary Margaret sulked. “I hate that game.”

“If it makes you feel better, I know who’s got you.”

The other woman’s eyes lit up. “You _do?”_

“Do you wanna know?”

Mary Margaret considered that. “You know what, I’m gonna try and restrain myself this year.”

Emma grinned. “That’s very…big of you, Mary Margaret. I’m proud of you.”

Emma went back to her lesson planning; she was thinking about revamping her classes for the following semester. She had about a dozen books to read over the break; it was so hard to keep up while she was teaching.

“Party’s at six!” Mary Margaret reminded her, realizing she wasn’t getting anything else out of her friend. She loved Emma, but privately, she thought Emma worked far too hard for someone so pretty. But Emma didn’t seem interested in dating, so she tried not to push. She just wanted her friend to be happy.

Emma breathed a sigh of relief as soon as Mary Margaret was out of sight. She was certain her resolve would crack. She wasn’t even sure this was a good idea, but she was tired of dancing around her feelings. She only hoped that the object of her fantasies felt the same way she did.

Killian carefully arranged the premade ribbon, making sure to tuck the tag into the side. Nerves made his hand shake. What the hell could he be nervous about? It was just a stupid work Christmas party. Half of the department wouldn’t even be there, since so many had already left to visit family or start research trips. He had once such trip planned himself, but once he found out Emma was staying, he’d cancelled. It was reckless—one only got permission to peruse the Royal Archives sparingly—but he thought there might an even more important reason to stay.

This was his first semester at the University, the newbie in the History department. He thought keeping a low profile would be a good move for the new kid on the block, but that was before he met Emma Swan. No nonsense, smart, sarcastic, stunningly beautiful. She was brittle, hard to get to know, but he was determined. There was just something about her.

It was slow going, but he thought he was making progress. It began as professional courtesy, inquiring about her work, her classes. Emma specialized in the suffrage movement, the incredible women of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries who fought for the vote. She was very knowledgeable and very passionate about her subject; he enjoyed talking to her. She liked to needle him about _his_ specialty, eighteenth century naval history. Even then, he found himself charmed by her and her godawful pirate puns.

It didn’t take long before he realized he was falling for her.

On her birthday, he left an anonymous card and bear claw in her office, a little trial balloon to see if she would be open to something more than professional discourse. A few days later, a box of Keurig cups appeared on his desk in between classes. There was no note or card, but he took it as a good sign all the same. The semester work load intensified after that, the final push toward finals, but when he invited her to spend a Saturday afternoon grading papers at a local coffee shop, she agreed. It wasn’t a date; he didn’t want to press his luck. That day, he learned all about her love of hot cocoa with cinnamon, grilled cheese and onion rings.

Now, when they saw each other in the halls, they exchanged flirtatious smiles and sparring text messages. She challenged him, confused him, beguiled him and he loved every second of it. He was almost certain she had feelings for him, but he didn’t know how to actually ask her on a date. What if she said no? He didn’t want to lose her friendship either. When the Secret Santa gift exchange came up, he jumped at the chance to test the waters.

Chairman Mills graciously opened her home for the Christmas party; Killian had never been there. He got turned around twice; he only realized he was on the right street when he spotted Emma’s yellow Beetle. Killian squeezed into the space directly behind her, his knee holding the wheel steady while he put the car in park. The crisp December wind bit into his skin as he exited his Mustang, snow crunched under his boots. Killian tucked his gift under his arm and hurried for the front door. He had barely rung the bell when Regina’s husband, Robin, opened it.

“Come on in!” the other man said cheerfully. “Killian, right?”

“Aye. Hello again, Robin.”

“Oh, thank god, another Englishman! Perhaps you could explain to my darling wife the merits of Boxing Day?”

Killian chuckled. “I will do my best.”

“Here, let me take that,” Robin continued. “We’ve got a table for these. Is it labeled?”

Killian rubbed the back of his neck. “It is.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t peek.”

Killian had only met Robin a couple of times so far; he didn’t feel obligated to actually follow through on his promise. Regina was the least of his concerns. After shaking off Robin, he tried to search for Emma. Colleagues greeted him along the way; he struggled to be polite. Victor Whale kept going on about the inefficiencies of the postal service, which was not only boring, but keeping Killian tied to one spot. But his brain was sluggish; he was having difficulty thinking up a reason to get away.

Until he saw her.

Golden hair got his attention, loose and flowing. Emma didn’t wear her hair down often; she looked beautiful. “Sorry, mate,” he muttered absently. “Eggnog.”

Emma held her glass mug just a little too tightly; her fingers were starting to cramp. She couldn’t seem to relax. Now that she was here, her plan seemed like a _very_ bad idea. Just who did she think she was kidding? She and Killian were work colleagues, nothing more. Emma didn’t do _dating_. She couldn’t; she was too busy.

And yet…whenever she saw him, her belly flipped. He was handsome, certainly, but there was more to it than that. If that’s all it was, then she would probably would have slept with him a long time ago. He’d definitely featured prominently in her fantasies over the last couple of months. Not that she’d ever tell him that. Still, it was his eyes that always got her. The bluest she’d ever seen; they saw right through her. It scared the crap out of her, but it never occurred to her to avoid him. She looked forward to their little verbal sparring matches too much.

It was the most fun she’d had in years.

“Evening, Swan.”

Her belly did _not_ just somersault. Absolutely not. “Jones.”

“I see you’ve already begun to partake in our hostess’ liquor.”

“You must be a lightweight if you think I’m going to get drunk off _eggnog.”_

“I can hold my own, lass.” He smiled that cheeky grin that he saved just for her. “Why? Is that an invitation?”

She rolled her eyes. “Does that line ever work?”

“Probably not.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Surely, he’d gone out since he got here? She knew some of his students positively swooned over him. Not that she pegged him as the type to seduce a student.

“It means, Swan, that I’ve little interest in merely passing time with someone I hardly know.”

She gulped. This was her chance! Wasn’t it? Rather than take the extra leap, she chickened out. “That’s why it’s called dating, Jones. You can _get_ to know someone.” Perhaps she could still go get her gift out of the pile? God, she was such a coward.

Killian frowned. “That’s all you have to say?”

He looked so hurt as the seconds passed without a word slipping from her lips. It wasn’t until he started to turn that she grabbed his arm. “Killian, wait…”

“Presents!” Regina called loudly. “Everyone gather ‘round so Santa can deliver your gift!”

 _Damn it._ Emma didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she couldn’t bear to see her friend (and maybe more? If she hadn’t completely ruined things) hurting. As much as they scared her, her feelings for him were real and she needed him to know. But this wasn’t the place.

Killian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still a bit wounded. He’d been so _certain_ , but what if he was wrong? He’d never seen Emma _frightened_ before. Perhaps that was why she’d lashed out? There was some office gossip about an old flame, but he’d never asked. He’d just as soon as let the past lie. With Emma, he wanted a _future._

Robin moved through the room, handing out gifts. Emma and Killian stood awkwardly beside each other, wanting to talk but knowing this wasn’t the place. Emma held out an absurd hope that her choice of gift might get across what she couldn’t with her words.

“Ah, Emma! This one is for you,” Santa Robin said. Good lord, he was even wearing the hat. He handed her a long thin box wrapped in shiny red paper, a green bow pasted in one corner. _To Emma_ was the only inscription on the tag. But she knew that handwriting. Shit!

If anyone noticed her reaction, they paid her no mind. Robin had already moved on to the next recipient. “Killian, I believe this one is yours.” The square box was heavier than he expected, wrapped in gold paper with red ribbons. _Killian_ was the only word on the tag. He glanced at Emma; she bit her lip, an awed kind of confusion in her emerald eyes. Had she…? Had _they_ …?

There was only one way to find out.

Emma left her mug on the nearest flat surface she could find so she could open her gift. She secretly loved this part, the ripping paper part. She’d rarely gotten the opportunity as a child, growing up in foster and group homes. Now, as an adult, on the equally rare occasion she received a gift, she relished every moment. It surprised her that her hands were shaking. After a few ineffectual tugs, a large roughened palm covered hers. “Easy, Swan.”

There were so many people. “Uh, can we go somewhere?”

“You don’t want to open your gift?”

“No, I do…just without so many people watching.”

His face lit up in a gorgeous smile that made her knees weak. “Follow me.” He had no idea where to go, but he felt Emma on his heels as he weaved his way through the crowd. There was a darkened room toward the back of the house, a formal living room? A den? It was difficult to tell with the piles of coats, scarves and hats that covered the furniture. “Less than ideal but…” He was cut off by Emma grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket and pressing her lips firmly to his. He blinked, shocked, but quickly responded. He’d only dreamed of this since the moment he met her. His hand settled on her waist, hers cupped the back of his head, gently maneuvering him to deepen the kiss. He moaned as their tongues touched, the first taste of her was heavenly. “Swan… _Emma…”_

“Shhh,” she whispered back. “Don’t spoil it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He kissed her again, this time wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. The little mewl in her throat nearly had him undone; boldly, he let his hand slide over the curve of her backside. “Christ, you feel good.”

She smiled, leaning in to caress his jaw with her lips. “I could say the same about you.” Being in his arms was more than she’d ever imagined; she didn’t care about the damn present. This was what she truly wanted for Christmas. Gently, she coaxed him back toward a chair and gave him a shove. Killian collapsed into it with an oomph, the chair lumpy due to all the coat piled in it. Emma climbed into his lap, kissing him hungrily as his arms came around her. Now that she had a taste, she wanted more. “God, Killian.” She could feel him between her legs, hard and thick; how incredible would he be inside her?

It was like his fingers had a mind of their own, latching onto her zipper and tugging it down. Her skin was warm and smooth as he stroked along her spine. “Is this really happening, love?”

Emma sat back, cupping his cheeks. “Is this okay?” Suddenly, she was afraid she’d done something wrong.

“More than okay,” he assured her. He kissed her palm. “I just didn’t know if we’d ever get here.”

That warmed her all the way to her toes. “Yeah?”

He ran his fingers through some of her golden hair. “Aye. I think I wanted to kiss you about a week after we met.”

She flushed; she’d been rough on him those first few weeks, taking unnecessary digs at him. It was all a cover, she could see that _now_ , but the fact that he didn’t seem put off was a relief. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just…”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to explain, lass. We’re here now.”

“But…”

“Let’s save that conversation for later. Much later. That is…” It was his turn to blush. “If you want there to be a later?”

She bit her lip. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” Tired of talking, she kissed him again, slowly, thoroughly, until they were both breathing heavily, and a very familiar ache built between her thighs. “Who knew you’d be such a good kisser, Jones.”

He chuckled, his fingers inching more and more under her dress. “I assure you, Swan, there are plenty of things I’m good at.”

“Hmm, care to share?”

“I think I’d rather demonstrate if that’s alright with you.”

She grinned happily. “Yes, please.”

He groaned, wanting nothing more than to keep touching her. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere private?”

“Not ready to get fired, Jones?”

“I just don’t fancy other men hearing you scream for me.”

“Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?”

“You’ll see.”

They made out like horny teenagers for a few more minutes, until it was painfully apparent that if they wanted things to go further, they would need to leave. “Your car or mine?” Emma whispered, giving her earlobe a nip with her teeth.

“Mine, I think,” Killian replied. “My place?”

Emma breathed deeply for a moment, then nodded. “Okay.” She stood reluctantly, his fingers skimming her back as he zipped her back up. Emma, in turn, tried to straighten his suit; she was only partially successful. “I’ll go first. Wait five minutes, then follow.”

“As you wish.” Secretly, Killian was thankful for a few moments to himself; his mind and body were reeling. Everything happened so fast, but somehow, it felt inevitable. They’d been dancing around this thing between them for weeks; his heart soared at the idea she might feel as he did. He wouldn’t push her; her desire to act on her feelings was enough for now. Slowly, his erection subsided, allowing him to grab his coat.

“Leaving already?” Robin asked.

“Aye. I, uh, need to call some friends back in London. Time difference and all that.”

“It was good to see you!” Robin called as Killian left.

Neither Emma nor Killian had opened their forgotten presents, left haphazardly on Regina’s living room floor.

He met Emma by his car, gallantly opening the door for her. She hurried inside; it really was freezing out. She shot him a far too sexy smile as he went to put the car into drive and it finally hit him that this was _happening._ Emma Swan was in his car, coming home with _him._ He wondered if she felt the same sort of giddy nervousness he did.

Emma smoothed her skirt over her knees, all too aware of her hands. They were still warm from touching him. She wanted to explore more, see if her imagination had done him justice, but there was a part of her that was still afraid. What of all this blew up in her face? She had to work with him. And she didn’t have a great track record with men. Almost as if he read her mind, Killian reached over and touched her hand as they paused for a stoplight. “I can take you home, lass, if you’d rather.”

“Do you think we’re making a mistake?”

That surprised him. “Love, the important question is do _you_ think this is a mistake?”

“I don’t and that’s why it scares me.”

He gave her a quick squeeze before turning back to the road. “Good, because I’m bloody terrified.”

She laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. “We’re kinda messed up.”

“At least we’re messed up together?”

She giggled. “Which is good because I really liked kissing you.”

He flashed her a brilliant white grin. “I did too.”

A much more comfortable silence saw them through the rest of the drive to his place. Killian lived in a one bedroom condo on the edge of town; as a bachelor, he didn’t need much space. The interior was an eclectic mix of modern and historic, the furniture in square and rectangle shapes, paired with antique style woodwork. Emma spotted several sailing ships in bottles as she removed her coat and it made her smile. Killian certainly loved his work.

“Would you like a tour?”

“Maybe later.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the couch. Killian followed her willingly, swallowing heavily as she kicked off her heels and tucked herself in beside him. They stared at each other for a long time, blue on green, Emma toying with the hair at his nape, Killian rubbing her back. She didn’t seem put off in the least by his stump, but he still felt nervous about it. This time when their lips touched there was knowledge there, a desire to please, to explore. They kissed until his neck twinged from the odd angle; he remedied that by tugging her into his lap. “Hmm, this feels familiar.”

“Good?”

“Yeah.” She bent to kiss him again, more aggressively, thrusting her tongue past his lips. Killian ran his hand over every part of her he could reach, relishing her soft moan as he palmed a breast.

“Alright, love?”

“Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure? I’ve wanted this for so long…”

She cut him off with a kiss. “Shut up, Jones, and kiss me.”

“Happily.” He surprised her by switching their position, laying her out on her back and settling on top of her. Emma mewled as he nipped and laved at her throat, her body heating up, wetness pooling between her legs. She had to yank hastily at her skirt to give him room, but once he was there, he felt incredible. The growing bulge rubbed her through her panties, increasing her desire.

“God…Killian…fuck, just like that.”

“Like this?” He thrust against her, making her grunt in pleasure.

“More…don’t stop.” She hadn’t orgasmed to anything but her own touch in far too long. She _ached_ for him, in a way she’d never experienced. It was intoxicating.

He rolled his hips, trying to give her what she craved. “No need to be quiet, lass. Let me hear you.”

Emma keened and arched, dragging his mouth back to hers. They kissed sloppily as her pleasure built, her hips grinding frantically against his. She felt like a naughty teenager, dry humping her boyfriend late at night right under a parent’s nose. When she climaxed, she cried out, a shudder going through her. “Oh shit! Shit!”

Killian backed off as soon as she climaxed; he was already close, and he wasn’t through with her yet. They were only going to get one first time and he didn’t want to ruin it. As Emma panted, he slithered to the floor, hiking her skirt up to her waist and turning her so he could yank off her now soaked panties. “May I?”

Emma nodded absently, not really paying attention. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt this good and they were just getting started. It wasn’t until she felt a warm wet tongue on her flesh that she realized what his intentions were. She jumped, surprised, causing Killian to stop. “Did I do something wrong, love?”

“What? No!” she said quickly, her cheeks flushing even more red. “It’s just…been a while. Please, continue.”

He raised a credulous brow at her. “Sure?”

She nodded, more firmly this time. “Yes. Let’s see how talented you are with that mouth, Jones.”

He grinned. “Happy to oblige.” He ducked down again, lifting her left leg over his shoulder and holding other with his forearm. Emma cried out again as he tasted her, but now there was only pleasure. It didn’t take him long to figure out the sorts of things she liked; Emma had a very expressive face. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she bucked against him, an almost pornographic moan tumbling from her lips. He brought his hand into the mix, teasing her entrance as he worked her clit, eager to bring her off again.

Emma keened, the pressure building again, one hand fumbled to grip the back of the couch, the other dived into Killian’s hair. She held him to her, not caring how utterly wanton she must look. “Close,” she panted. “So fucking close!”

Killian pressed two fingers into her abruptly, stretching her; Emma screamed as she climaxed a second time, her walls clamping around his fingers. It felt amazing, but she still craved more. His fingers were a tease; she needed him inside her, consuming her, filling her up. “Fuck, Jones.”

“Did I pass muster, milady?”

She smiled lazily and crooked her finger. He came willingly, allowing her to taste herself on his lips as they kissed. “You got a bedroom in this place?”

“Aye.”

“Take me there.”

He was certain she meant for him to lead her there, but she was still coming down from her high. Rather than wait, Killian scooped her up and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. Emma protested weakly for a moment, then relaxed into him, arms looped around his neck. “Almost there, love.”

“Good, I can’t wait to see what the suit hides,” she purred in his ear.

“Minx.”

Killian kicked the door of his bedroom closed then sat her down on the edge of his bed. Thank god, he’d remembered to make it that morning! Emma smirked up at him, choosing not to waste time. She yanked him down by his tie, tongue dueling lazily with his as she pushed his wrinkled suit jacket off. He let her lead, content to taste her while she undressed him.

“Stand up?”

He did so, swallowing she slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. He could _hear_ his heart pounding as her lips caressed his skin, kissing her way down his sternum. “Emma?”

“You’re not the only one who’s wanted this,” she said simply.

He chuckled then _giggled_ and jumped as she found a ticklish spot. “Swan!”

“Oh, is the professor ticklish?” she teased. Her fingers brushed the spot on his side again, enjoying how he squirmed.

“Emma!”

She kissed him, trying to distract him as she continued to tickle him. She was only partially successful; trying to get away, Killian managed to send them both to the bed in a heap. They laughed heartily, giggling as Emma finally yanked the cotton shirt from his torso. Killian couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed with a partner like that. But he quickly sobered when he realized what she was looking at. His stump.

Emma bit her lip, not put off but curious. Killian never talked about his injury outside of the barest facts of how it happened. He functioned so well; Emma forgot about it most of the time. He was just _Killian._ Her eyes flicked up to his, his body suddenly tense, his blue eyes wary. She tried to smile, to look reassuring, but she wasn’t sure she succeeded. Rather than speak, she leaned in to kiss him. It took a moment, but then he relaxed in her arms. “Still with me?”

He sucked in a breath. “Aye, love.”

She smiled, really smiled now, happiness swelling her chest. “Good.” She stood and unzipped her dress, wiggling her hips to shimmy out of it. It fell to the floor, leaving her in a red lace bra, trimmed with green bows.

“Optimistic, lass?”

“It’s Christmas, I was feeling festive.” She had no idea this would happen, but she chose to count it as good luck. “You can unwrap me later.”

“Later?”

“You, Jones, are still wearing pants.”

He laughed. “So I am.”

Emma reached for his belt, her eyes falling shut as his lips caressed her shoulder. She worked the belt open, unable to resist palming him. Killian groaned, his cock jumping under her touch. A few deft strokes and he was hard once more, eager to be inside her. He leaned back on his elbows as Emma stripped his trousers and pants off, leaving him nude.

Emma wet her lips instinctively, definitely _liking_ what she saw. Her core throbbed in response, more wetness trickling down her thighs. Abruptly, she dropped to her knees and took him in hand before he could protest. “Oh fuck,” he swore. Emma licked him from root to tip, swirling her tongue around the tip. Her right fist pumped slowly, her warm wet mouth teased her belled head. Killian hissed in pleasure, fighting the urge to buck into her touch. How many times had he imagined her like this? His imagination was feeble in comparison to the real thing. Emma seemed to be enjoying herself, her green eyes filled with a mixture of lust and mischief that he adored.

Emma clenched her thighs, the ache within her almost unbearable. It had been a long time since she’d had sex; even longer since she’d had it with someone she cared about. On some level she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. She and Killian both deserved better than that. Still, the anticipation was almost as delicious, so she was in no hurry. She kept her eyes on his as she took him past her lips, suckling gently, taking a little more on every bob of her head. Killian felt like he was melting, hovering on the edge of orgasm, his body worshipped by a golden goddess.

Emma worked him thoroughly, hand moving over the length she couldn’t reach. She’d always suspected he was well endowed, but _damn._ Wetness flooded her as she imagined all the ways she could have him.

Killian panted heavily, shaking with need. “Swan…Emma…you have to…stop. _Please_.”

She released him with a wet pop. “Problem, Professor?” she asked innocently.

“Bloody devious minx,” he growled. With more agility than she expected, Killian dragged her up and onto the bed, covering her body with his. Emma moaned into his desperate needy kiss, her hands sliding over his ass and squeezing.

“Fuck, hurry, Killian.”

“Condom?” he muttered, sounding wrecked.

“Pill,” she replied, equally wrecked. “You good?”

“Aye.” Still, he leaned back to look at her as he lined himself up. “I don’t know if I can be gentle.”

“Don’t care.” She brought his mouth to hers, swallowing her loud moan as he slowly pushed into her. It _had_ been awhile and he was large, but she was so wet, so desperate for this moment, that she welcomed the slight stretch and burn as he entered her. Once he was fully seated, it was pure bliss. “Fuck, Killian.”

“Am I hurting you?”

“God no. Feels so fucking good.” She wiggled her hips, encouraging him to move.

Killian groaned, burying his face in her neck as he pumped his hips slowly. She fit him like a glove, tight and wet and warm; it was heaven. He wanted this to last, to be the loving romantic moment she deserved, but he ached for her. His body felt out of his control, moving faster, harder, responding to her mewls and cries, her nails digging into his skin. “Emma, Emma, _fuck_.”

She hitched her leg over his hip, driving him deeper, causing her to arch. “Fuck, right there, Killian. Oh my _god.”_

He was too close to coming; he flipped them so Emma was on top. He slipped from her for a moment, she whined in protest, but then she guided him home like they’d been lovers for years. She pulled him up, kissing him wetly, smiling as his arms came around her. “So beautiful, Emma.”

“Just kiss me.” As their lips met, she drew his hand to her swollen clit; his touch sent a shudder through her. Encouraged, he rubbed faster, needing her there with him.

“Close, love. So close.”

“Me too, fuck, _me too_.” She rode him faster, skin smacking together; she let out a scream as she climaxed for a _third_ time, shaking in his arms. Killian followed quickly, her walls rippling over his length. He instinctively gripped her hip with his hand, holding her he rutted into her, hard thrusts as his cock pulsed, filling her, bliss flowing all the way to his toes.

It was the most intense orgasm he’d ever had.

They collapsed against the mattress, utterly spent, yet unwilling to part. Emma would never have considered herself a cuddler, but she couldn’t move, feeling completely safe in his arms.

Killian panted harshly, desperate for air, holding Emma against his chest. She seemed content there, her heart beating against his. His lips caressed the crown of her head, secretly wondering when he was going to wake up. This had to be a dream.

Emma felt the sticky wetness start to slide down her thighs; she needed to get cleaned up. She brushed a kiss to his chest and started to move. “Emma?”

“Be right back. Bathroom?”

“Across the hall.”

She bounced up faster than he expected, shedding her bra as she went. Killian watched her go with a sort of bemused confusion; he had no idea what would happen now. The sex was better than he could have imagined, but it would destroy him if that was all she wanted. He _loved_ her, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t want to push her, so he just peeled back the duvet and settled in to wait for her.

Emma used the facilities and cleaned herself up. She was sore in all the right places, her body sated for the moment. Although with Killian she’d probably be ready for round 2 in a few hours. Did she want round 2? _Yes._ Did she want more than sex? She didn’t do feelings well, but she _did_ with him. She wanted more. The question was: was she brave enough to take that leap?

She found him still in bed, under the covers. He tried to look nonchalant, but she could sense his nerves. In the past, this was the part where she got dressed and left. She didn’t have her Bug, so she couldn’t leave easily, even if she wanted to. She didn’t want to. She wanted to see where this went. She climbed in beside him, offering him a shy smile. “Hey.”

Tentatively, he reached for her hand. When she didn’t shake him off, he squeezed. “Hey. Staying?”

“If that’s okay?”

He smiled. “Aye, it is.” He hummed as she kissed him. “What was that for?”

“I can’t kiss you?”

“It’s a safe bet that you can kiss me whenever you want, Swan. Is that going to be an aspect of our relationship in the future?”

“I want it to be.” She tilted her head, trying to find words. “It’s been a while since I did this…a relationship. I can’t guarantee I won’t screw it up somehow. But I want to try?”

“Love, you have just as much chance of screwing this up, as you say, as I do. But as long as we’re in it together, I think we can muddle through.”

“I’m good at muddling.”

“Me too.” He raised his arm and she snuggled in beside him. She fit perfectly. “Let’s say we get some sleep and start fresh in the morning?”

“I can get behind that.”

 

* * *

 

Light streamed through the sheer curtains; Emma blinked against the intrusion. Why was it so bright? Her bedroom curtains were thick to block out unwanted sunlight; Mary Margaret sometimes joked that she lived like a vampire. Emma didn’t mind the sun, just not so early in the morning. It brought back bad memories.

Then she remembered. She wasn’t _at_ home. She was at Killian’s. In his bed. In his arms. Quite literally, as his right arm was thrown over her, his warm hand resting on her belly.

That wasn’t the only warm thing she could feel. Oh.

She shifted a little, torn between wanting to yank the curtains closed and snuggling against him. She was surprised at how calm she was; Emma hadn’t been in this sort of position in a very long time. But she’d imagined being with Killian for so long now, she didn’t want to break the spell. It felt nice.

“Swan?”

“Go back to sleep.” His voice was rough from sleep; she couldn’t say she disliked it.

His lips brushed her bare shoulder. “Perhaps I don’t want to sleep.”

“What’s better than sleep?”

He chuckled. “I can think of only one thing…” His hand tightened on her belly as he shifted his hips, nestling his prominent erection against her ass.

“Hmm, I like the way you think, Jones.” She was still a little sore from the night before, but she wasn’t about to let that stop her from enjoying this new aspect of their relationship. Emma covered his hand with hers and dragged it up to her breast, coaxing him to touch her.

Killian groaned, letting the fullness of her breast settle in his palm. “Fuck, I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured. “Waking up with you in my bed.”

“I’m here now,” she whispered, arching into his touch. She showed him how to tweak her nipple just right; wetness flooded her core. “Mmmm.”

“Like that, Swan?” He gave her other breast similar attention, rolling the nipple between his fingers, relishing the way she squirmed against him. “So responsive.”

Emma turned her head and torso, awkwardly kissing him. “God, don’t stop. Feels amazing.”

He thrust against her ass, letting her know how much this was affecting him too. “May I have you again, love?”

She took his hand and placed it between her thighs. She was already wet. “Fuck yes.”

Killian growled as he kicked the duvet free from their overheated bodies. Emma moved back onto her side, angling her hips so he could take her. Killian raised her leg just enough for him to slide home, their load groans filling the air. Emma rocked back against him as he thrust forward, needing to feel as much of him as she could. “So eager, Swan.”

“Shut up and fuck me, Jones.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He held her against him as they rutted together, her tight wet sex perfect around him. He knew that he would never get tired of making love to this woman; she was incredible.

Emma whined, fisting the pillow under her head as he rode her. It was so good, but she needed more. She needed all of him. “Killian, Killian…please…”

“Tell me what you need, love.”

“I need…more. Please.”

He patted her hip. “Up on your knees, Swan.”

She felt the loss the moment he slipped from her, but she obeyed. She spread her knees as wide as she dared, hissing as she felt him move in behind her, rubbing the tip of his cock over her swollen sex. This time he wasn’t gentle, filling her completely in one thick stroke. Emma cried out, the deep penetration exactly what she needed. Their coupling was frantic, rough, loud; Emma relished every moment. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Bloody _fuck.”_ Killian pulled her up to his chest, holding her against him with his forearm while his hand found her clit. He rubbed her furiously until she quivered in his hold, her mouth open in a silent scream as she climaxed. He followed a handful of strokes later, her name a prayed on his lips as he emptied himself within her.

“Shit.” Emma panted, her body deliciously sated. Killian’s strong hold was the only thing keeping her up; she felt boneless, just a mass of quivering pleasure. “Wow.”

Killian brushed a kiss to her damp shoulder. “Aye.”

“Why did it take us so long to do that?”

“No idea, sweetheart.” Now that she was here in his bed, all sorts of endearments tumbled from his lips; he couldn’t help it.

“Good thing we’ll be doing it a lot more.”

He chuckled. “That a fact?”

“Unless you have something better to do.”

“Well, I thought I’d take you on a date or two. You know, just for form’s sake.”

It was her turn to laugh. “I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’ve already got the boring first date stuff out of the way.”

Killian settled them back on the mattress, Emma facing him now. She was beautiful like this. “Relief, that is.”

Her features grew stern. “And what is that supposed to mean, Jones?”

“It means that I can really impress you now.”

“I think you already did.” They each leaned in for kiss, surprisingly tender and sweet. “Mind if I run to the bathroom?”

“Go ahead. Hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Good.” He watched as she left, pausing to casually grab his shirt from the day before. Killian pulled on his boxers and a t-shirt as he did a mental tally of his groceries. He thought he had enough to make her some pancakes. Maybe some eggs too. When he got to the kitchen, he turned on the radio; there was a station playing Christmas songs. Knowing how much Emma loved coffee, he set a pot brewing then started on breakfast.

He was just getting ready to start mixing the pancake mix when someone knocked on his door. What the hell? Killian glanced around to make sure Emma was still upstairs; they hadn’t talked about telling anyone about them. Once he was sure she was still out of sight, he opened the door. “Robin?”

Robin surely noticed his state of dress, but prudently said nothing. He merely smiled and handed Killian two brightly wrapped packages. “We found these as we were cleaning up,” he said simply. “Thought you’d want them back.”

Killian struggled not to flush; he’d completely forgotten about their Secret Santa gifts! “Um, yeah, mate. Thanks.”

“Happy Christmas!”

“You too, Robin.” Thankfully, no more was said, and Killian shut the door as quickly as he could without seeming rude. _Bloody hell_. So much for keeping things a secret.

“Coffee, thank god.”

Killian returned to the kitchen, gifts under his arm; Emma was pouring herself a cup. “Alright, Swan?”

She took a sip, then really focused on his face. “Uh, yeah. Killian, what’s wrong?”

“Robin dropped off our Secret Santa gifts. Seems we forgot them in our haste.”

Emma stared at him with wide eyes. “Oh. Right.”

“He brought them _both_ here.”

Emma groaned. “Mary Margaret’s going to have a field day with this.”

“I’m sorry, Swan. I didn’t think…”

Emma saw him start to panic and she laid a hand on his arm. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I can take a little teasing from my friend.”

“Are you sure? I mean, we could…”

“What pretend this never happened? Killian, if I wanted that I would have crept out of here before you woke up. I’ve done that before. I’m so _sick_ of running. I want this with you, okay?”

“I never meant to make things difficult for us, Swan.”

“So we get a little ribbing from our colleagues, so what?” She tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I like you, Killian. A lot. I have for a while. Like I said, I wanna see where this goes with us.”

“Me too.”

“Good. Should we open our presents?”

“Yeah, sure.” He handed Emma hers, the paper slightly torn from where she tried to open it earlier. This time her hands were steady as she ripped the paper with gusto. She was really curious about what he’d gotten her.

“Oh wow.” Emma lifted the lid on the box, the wand nestled in velvet. “How did you know?” It was from Ollivander’s in the theme park. She was pretty sure she’d never mentioned her love of Harry Potter in front of him.

“There’s a Gryffindor decal on your car.”

She laughed. “Right. Should I be worried about you stalking me, Jones?”

“Bit late for that, love.”

“True.”

“Do you like it?”

She kissed him firmly on the mouth. “It might be the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, Killian.”

“You’re welcome.” Emma bit her lip expectantly; Killian took the hint and eased the ribbon off his gift. When the lifted the lid, he gasped. “Emma. Love, this is…perfect. Thank you.” It was a real sextant, an antique; it had to be from the eighteenth century. In mint condition.

Emma smiled in relief. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I can’t imagine how much work it took to find one of these.” He lifted it up, examining it from all angles. It looked genuine. He’d wanted one for ages, but they were expensive.

“A lot more than it would have taken to find something for old Grouchypants.”

She mumbled it to herself; Killian almost missed it. “Wait, what?”

Emma’s cheeks flamed in embarrassment. “Nothing. Forget it.”

“Swan, what did you mean?”

She sighed. “It means that I didn’t draw your name. I tracked down who had yours and swapped.”

Killian laughed, properly belly laughs that made Emma mildly uncomfortable. Then worse, because he couldn’t stop. “Well, if that’s how you feel about it…”

Killian sucked down air, reaching for her before she could leave. “I’m not laughing at you, Swan. I promise.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

“I’m laughing at the pair of us, going to all this trouble.”

“What?”

Killian was much calmer now. “I mean, love, that you’re not the only one who used subterfuge to obtain the Secret Santa they wanted.”

_“What?”_

“I drew August’s name. I knew getting yours would be a long shot, but I had hope. I thought if I was your Secret Santa it would give us a chance to talk. To get to know each other better.”

Emma chuckled, stepping into his arms. “It worked?” They knew each other much better now.

“Aye, it did.” He kissed her temple. “That’s okay?”

“Yeah, Killian. It’s okay.” She cupped his cheeks and drew his lips to hers. He could taste the coffee on her lips; she moaned as she opened for him. When they finally broke the kiss, Emma leaned her forehead against his. “Let’s have some breakfast, then we can go back to getting to know each other? In your bed, of course.”

He grinned. “It would be my pleasure, Swan.”


End file.
